


The House on Violin Road

by Hedgiehairdresser



Category: Drawing Blood - Poppy Z. Brite, Supernatural
Genre: Fake Character Death, Incest, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 01:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedgiehairdresser/pseuds/Hedgiehairdresser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam make their way to Missing Mile NC,  to uncover the truth behind the infamous 'McGee Death House', but are they in over their heads?</p><p>Please note: I took creative license with the plot/time line, because Drawing Blood was set in the early 1990's. Set pre season 4 of Supernatural.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my good friend Eli, who helped me come up with this idea during a particularly boring pep rally. Also many kudos to my old high school English Teacher who shall remain nameless. For entertaining me greatly, and for learning that books on my desk are better left untouched.  
> Enjoy.

"Sam, wake up!" Dean forcefully shoved his younger brother out of his makeshift bed of piled dirty laundry. They had been camping for over a week, waiting for a call, an e-mail or shady news report over the radio, and whilst it was Sam's idea to be outside, where something suspicious ought to occur; he was the one who complained the most when nothing ended up happening. This being the eighth day, however, Dean had been tuning the dial on the radio when he heard a station talk show discussing a man, Bobby McGee, out in Missing Mile, North Carolina, whom, twenty years ago, had killed his wife, youngest son and himself, leaving only his oldest son alive. It turned out that the eldest son had been spotted returning to the town he had once lived, in search of answers relating to what made his father turn into the psychotic monster he had become.

It sounded like too good of an opportunity to pass up considering the rest of the week had come up dry without so much as an oddly enormous fish making the headlines.  
The younger brother shook his head full of dark brown hair in a groggy fashion-his eyesight blurry from the lack of REM sleep, as laundry wasn't exactly the best thing for one's body.  
"What?" He growled, his voice raspy as he stifled a yawn to accompany it. Dean rolled his eyes-his brother was always so dramatic when waking up.

"We got a hit up in North Carolina, up in butt-fuck nowhere. Get your ass in the car, if we get going now, we can get there before nightfall." Dean picked up a large arm full of the dirty laundry, figuring they could find a laundromat in Missing Mile if nothing else. Sam jerked up, his face alert as he climbed into the passenger seat of their Chevy Impala, Dean running the ignition until he heard the distinctive purr of the well maintained engine.

"What is it? Vampires? Werewolves? Green goblins?" Sam asked, taking a final look at the Dothan environment. The old Alabama town looked unchanged since it was first settled. The buildings were stout and sepia coloured, wooden panels and the distinct smell of manure in the air, it tinged every corner of the town. It didn't smell dirty though, it smelled like people trying to earn an honest living and making the town better for it. He loved it, where the people had been friendly towards them, the kids had not been seen pickpocketing old ladies, and, whether this was a good fact or bad, Sam couldn't decide; but it hadn't had any encounters of the extraterrestrial, spiritual, nor demonic of any kind. Good for the people, bad for the brothers.

"None, actually. Possibly haunting, but get this, so this guy, Bobby McGee, he's a cartoonist, right? Makes these adult comic books and stuff, well he moves his family to Missing Mile, and before three months is up, he goes bat-shit and kills them all. Except one son, Trevor. He left his oldest son alive in his sleep. Now, speculation is that he was drunk and forgot about him before he killed himself, but some people are saying that there was a reason the kid was left alive. Anyway now the little dumbass went back to the murder house and is trying to figure out WHY he's still alive. I figured it's worth checking out since dead guys who left their last revenge on the Earth are always in for some fun." Dean grinned, he loved psychopaths. What hooked him, though, was the timing. People who knew him in Texas had said that Bobby had been a devoted father, and never once even raised his voice at his wife, or two sons.

People in North Carolina, however, had said that when the family first arrived, he seemed like an average Joe, just relocating and dealing with life, and noticed that he went downhill from there, he never smiled, hardly ever left the house, never accompanied his wife out to do shopping, nothing. Maybe he went crazy during the drive? Maybe there was something in the town that made him go insane. Or, what Dean had been hoping, it was something in that particular house. They only had a ten and a half hour drive to get there to find out.

* * *

The drive had gone by without any significant event, they had under estimated traffic along the I-85, as it was already approaching dusk, and they had left well before eight o'clock in the morning.  
They rolled into Missing Mile, the streets abandoned, without life or vehicle of any sort. They hadn't even seen another car on the road since Gastonia, and that was almost two hours ago. Sam stretched restlessly in the passenger seat. Him and Dean had swapped driving duties after they made an emergency bladder evacuation in Georgia, but they promptly switched again once Dean deemed Sam's driving "more frightening than any mother-fucker Satan could conjure."

"So let's see, psychotic murderer? Check. Creepy ghost town? Check. Dark outside? Check. Hmm, this is starting to look more like a cheesy B-horror film than an actual supernatural encounter." Dean was slightly sceptical, this place didn't look real, it looked too much like your average run down town with no inhabitants.

As if on cue, the Impala stalled, no smoke, no warning lights, no flat tires, it just stopped. Dean, confused, tried to turn it back on, the engine didn't even make a sound, the key turned, and the gas pedal went down, but no sound came from his precious baby.  
"Of course, you know, I'm sick of clichés, can we just not do this today?" Sam groaned, opening the door and undoing his seatbelt so he could get a better look at the front of the car. Dean wanted to both hit his head over the dashboard and chuckle at the same time, this was all just too made up.

"Is there even a mechanic in this town?" Dean asked, watched as his younger brother lifted up the hood. No smoke spiralled up, nor did any peculiar smell, or sound. For some reason, the Impala just decided to give up.  
"Here, get out, we'll walk down the road, there had to be something still open. Oh well, looks like we're camping again tonight, Dead." Sam slammed the hood down, the latch clicking into place. He started to saunter down the dusty road, there were no marked walkways, nor were the roads paved, it was all compacted dirt. The walls had a permanent layer of dust on it, if they had been any other colour any previous years, you couldn't tell. They all had the same acorn colour plastered to them. It looked as if the owners didn't mind, seeing as the majority of the buildings looked as if they were for decoration only.

The only store they saw was a small corner store, the big foam letters at the top had been eroded by wind, and some were missing, the sign, instead of reading 'Missing Mile Corner Store' read 'Miss Mi Corn to e'. That made Sam smirk as he pointed it out to Sam.  
"Hey Sam, what's a corn toe?" He sniggered, taking note of how it was the only building that had any sign whatsoever, missing or not, every other store front was empty, looking like it had never even been inhabited, there was no dust on the inside, those doors had never even been unlocked.

"The opposite of a camel toe, and by the sounds of it, very painful. I wouldn't advise going in there." Sam shook his head, glad they could find humour in the town that otherwise was far more eerie than they had imagined.  
"Hey, over there, a mechanic shop, and by the looks of it, still open!" Dean patted Sam's shoulder roughly, pointing across the street, some shops down. He was right, the garage door was open, the large neon sign lit up displaying that it was, indeed, opened.

"Hey there, say, you aren't locals, are you?" The tall boy, around twenty-five or so, his hair shoulder length and cut so it dropped in large spikes. He glanced at Sam and Dean as they entered, smirking to himself.  
"Uhh, no, how could you tell?" Dean asked, wigged out again, did they have to add 'citizens have telepathy' to their list?  
"Well all the local kids are over at the Sacred Yew, everyone knows that's where to find Kinsey. Sorry boys, he runs this place, only mechanic in town, also works as town counsellor, bar owner, drink distributor, music man and on the side he takes in kids who have no where else to go. I'm Terry Buckett, owner of The Whirling Disc, and I happen to play in the second most popular band in town." Terry reached over the counter, shaking Sam's hand, as Dean didn't bother to extend his.

"So you're telling me the only man capable of fixing our car is out playing karaoke with a bunch of druggies?"Dean's anger flaring slightly, he had enough of this bullshit, he was starting to regret taking the trip up here, considering he just spent the past twelve hours cramped in the small drivers seat of the Impala, he wasn't in one of his better moods. Terry noticed immediately, throwing his hands over his head in his defence.

"Look man, I don't know who you are, but Kinsey does more for this town any other person here, I know you don't know what you're talking about, but show a little respect, alright? Look, the Sacred Yew is just a couple streets down, talk to Kinsey, he'll set you up with a place to stay. In the meantime, I'm just here fixing some of the electrical stuff in this place, the lights don't turn off, but the vents don't turn on." Terry felt bad, he did, this town was strange, and he knew it, and he knew that the arrival of these two meant Trevor didn't come back by accident. This was more visitors in the past three days than they had received in the three years.

"Alright, fine, Sacred Yew, was it? Thanks." Dean shrugged as he left, he understood now why the sign had been lit. As Sam joined him back outside, the stiff, humid dusty air choking both of them simultaneously, he said to Dean.  
"Could be a connection with that McGee kid, maybe it's the entire town that's fucked up."  
Dean nodded, agreeing with Sam about that, he didn't like the feel of it, and would be glad it was over.  
"Look, you were the one who found this place, I thought you would be grateful that there was finally something fun going on." Sam added, noticing Dean's bad mood. Gulping, he thought briefly if the town was getting to Dean.

"No, I'm fine, it's just been a long day, I need pie, and sleep. Tomorrow morning we'll look for the kid." Dean waved Sam away dismissively, making Sam smile, that sounded like Dean again.

They made it down the the club with no further issues, no other odd sightings or occurrences. The club looked like every other building in town, except this one was different. There was noise coming from it, there were people gathered on the inside, so many people that they couldn't tell if there were actually any lights on or not. The front was plainly labelled 'The Sacred Yew' in the same foam letters as the corner store. Only, this store had been in a state of upkeep, because it looked like a respectable place of business not like it had been left to weather for decades on end.

"Hold on, don't go in yet." The bouncer, if you could call him that, was a skinny teenager, maybe sixteen or seventeen, he was of colour, and had virtually no muscle on his body. Dean sniggered at him.  
"You do realise you can't really stop me from forcing my way in here, bud." He said, stepping forward, hoping to intimidate the kid. It didn't work, as the boy knew that Dean was obviously not a local, he had a bit more patience.  
"No, dude, I need to stamp your hand first, on Thursdays they have a raffle for free drinks and if you don't have a number you can't enter. I mean, go in if you want, but people generally want the stamp, I just needed to get out the ink pad." The kid took Dean's hand and put a large red '084' on it, doing the same to Sam's hand, only his read '085'. Dean looked at the boy again, who waved them inside, he looked nonchalant about being reamed out by his aggressive tone.

"Okay, so where's this Kinsey guy?" Sam asked, as Dean was still looking at the kid at the door, who stood there, listening to the music pouring out of the door. It was definitely Southern style, but the signer had this golden gravel voice, he couldn't understand any of the lyrics, but it was soothing, the same pitch as the guitar, it was like listening to a chorus of Mythical Sirens calling them forward, drowning them in succulent vocals.

"Terry said he worked the bar, right? We'll try looking over there." Dean snapped Sam out of his trance, he was focused on the music, he couldn't see the stage, but he could tell it was a live performance, you don't get that acoustic sound from any stereo system.  
They wandered over to the bar, which was jam packed with kids, all high school age, or recently graduated. How the Hell this was legal to be serving kids alcohol Dean couldn't fathom, but, he figured, being surrounded by the dry county, in the middle of the Bible Belt, kids needed somewhere to grow up.

"Hey, are you Kinsey?" Dean asked, leaning on the counter top with his elbow, pushing a stout red haired girl out of the way slightly. A lanky figure in dark denim overalls, with long straggly brown hair turned around, he had a gentle face, his beard and moustache trimmed and groomed, presumably because he was a mechanic and had to keep it short for safety purposes. He looked Dean and Sam over once, raising an eyebrow in their direction.

"Yeah, I suppose I am. Are you looking for your kid? I'm sure I could point them out to you." Kinsey put down the glass he was drying off, standing closer to the edge of the counter, he was certainly taller than either of the Winchester brothers. Sam gave Dean a suspicious look, they were in the middle of the Bible Belt, and this guy thought they were gay. Great, just perfectly great.  
"No, actually, we're here to talk to you. Our car broke down, and Terry said to talk to you about it?" Dean said, noticing how clean behind the counter looked. For a bar that serviced only teenagers, it was in wonderful condition. Interrupting the trio, a kid budged through, pulling loosely on Kinsey's overall sleeve.

"I finished organizing the record display, Kinsey, thanks for not telling my folks!" He made a thumbs up sign and immediately disappeared back into the crowd. Kinsey gave Dean an apologetic look.  
"If I catch a kid doing something they aren't supposed to, or if I make a bargain with them, they work it off by cleaning for me. Most kids in this town are more broke than spit, so I even trade drinks for cleaning service, or bar tending, or manning the door, as you saw Dylan doing. I try to help out, it's not easy being a kid in a town like this. Now, what about your car? You guys need a place to stay?" Kinsey smiled. He was a lot more easy going then when they were first introduced, Sam started to like this man more and more, he was on the side of the minority, their hidden support and role model.

"Yeah, are there any hotels nearby?" Dean asked, shaking hands with the tall man that was obviously well respected by the community, or at least, it's youngest members.  
"Oh don't waste your money, I could hook you up with a place to stay the night until I can take a look at your car. Sound like a fair trade?" Kinsey asked, his voice for reasoning with kids showing through, bargains and trade-offs were known as currency in this town.

Dean patted Kinsey on the arm in a friendly gesture, smiling about how this night was turning out, it couldn't get any more weird, so he decided to bite the bullet.  
"Yeah, sure, great, we'll stick around until closing-hey, question, this might sound odd, but have you heard anything about the McGee family?"


	2. Chapter 2

Dean and Sam hung around the Sacred Yew until almost three in the morning, after Kinsey had gotten some of the local kids to help clean the place up. What Dean found odd was how the kids here, with their lack of social stimulation, their only place to hang out was only available during the nights, were very well behaved towards the older man. Obviously they weren't perfect, seeing as they repaid debts by working them off, which meant they broke some rules now and again, but they never argued with being reprimanded.

"Do you notice how Kinsey seems to be some sort of God to these kids?" Sam commented, asking the question Dean had been pondering himself as he watched Kinsey cross the wooden floor of the makeshift dance hall, clearing out the leftover garbage. Dean nodded, his eyes roaming over the now empty space. They hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk in the bar, as Kinsey had been overloaded with customers and thirsty teenagers, but he was kind enough.  
"He's like the dad they never had. You have to appreciate a man who practically adopts a few hundred kids as his own." Dean shrugged, yawning, he hadn't gotten any sleep since they left Alabama, which was a long way away from where they stood at the top of North Carolina.

"Tired?" Sam asked, stepping away slightly, knowing how easily triggered Dean is when he's had very little sleep, it was like walking through a minefield at that point, even if it was his brother.  
"No shit, Sherlock, in case you haven't noticed we just drove halfway across the country, had our car break down and we had to sit here listening to some wannabe punk-ass teenagers all night, so YES, I'm fucking tired." Dean snapped, rubbing his temples, he was never very friendly when he hadn't had much sleep.

"Sorry you boys had to wait so long, there's not usually so much mess, but I can't say I didn't expect it. This is 'Lost Souls?' first gig back from their continental tour, so everyone was in a particularly, ah, 'good' mood." Kinsey smiled, waving away the small group of kids all dressed in black, their hair swaying in multiple directions due to the high humidity and buzzing static electricity from the walls. Sam was curious as to Kinsey's methods, this guy was almost always moving, always working at both of his jobs, and still had time to take in these children.

"It's all right, we understand you're busy, now, where did you say we could stay?" Sam asked, waving his hand nonchalantly, he knew he had to talk fast to prevent Dean from getting a word in edgewise, because knowing Dean, it would be a word of sarcasm, contempt and general verbal abuse. Something they were trying to avoid. Remember, they were on a case, a mission of their own, and had to gain the trust of the locals in order to gain information.

"You can stay at my place until morning, and I can get you over to Violin Road while I work on your car, should be done by nightfall, I only have two people ahead of you at the moment and they only have minor repairs." Kinsey rubbed the nape of his neck, he knew how to deal with the tempers and changes in teenagers, but when it came to adults, he was fairly lost. You couldn't just tell a teenager that things will get better and have them accept it, you had to work around their emotions and rampant feelings. When it came to adults however, generic seemed to satisfy most of them, but he was always so used to going in depth and explaining everything that he wasn't used to the short and sweet answers anymore and it often got him into trouble.

"We don't want to impose, we could just head to that violin place now if it doesn't make any difference to you." Sam explained, not really comfortable hanging out with the big slender man any longer than they had to. There was just something odd about him. Maybe not in the disturbing other worldly sense, but he was off, that was for sure.

"If you really want to. I have two boys over there at the moment, but I think it might be safer if there were more of you. We should pick up some basic supplies from the house though, some sleeping bags, food, whatever you need. I just want to see my boys and my customers looked after." Kinsey was a sweet person with a kind heart who really did just want to see everyone on their feet and stable. Even if he wasn't given a back story, he was given a reason, and that was enough for him to help out as best as he could.

"Is the house big enough? Don't worry about supplies, if we can get to our car we have our own things, Hell, we could even just sleep out in the old girl." Dean shrugged, not knowing really how else to contribute to the conversation, he wasn't a fan of meeting new people or anything.

"I thought you were interested in the old McGee place, that's why you came here, isn't it?" Kinsey asked, possible suspicion was evident in his tone. He wasn't sure who these two new outside folk were, and since he knew that on more than a few occasions reporters and hacks on the television were trying to get the inside scoop on the McGee Horror House, he was a bit wary. They did, however, seem like genuinely nice people, unlike most of the hacks, so he figured that he might as well give them an opportunity to prove that to him.

"Yeah, we are, but you don't seem too keen on us spending the night there." Dean raised an eyebrow, maybe, just possibly, things were starting to seem interesting around here, even though they hadn't even gotten to the McGee house yet to find out what was so daunting about it. However, even the locals seemed wary to talk about it, and usually if it were a hoax, even an elaborate one, things would seem too cheesy or people would have too much ease talking about it. These people just seemed downright skeptical that it was even haunted, but they would not hesitate to admit that something very bizarre and freaky happened there, and not a single one of them would ever be willing to set foot in that house.

"I just don't want you boys to think you're going on this big crazy demon hunt when we're not even sure what's in there. Now, I'm not one of those people that goes around believing ghost stories, but there is definitely not something right in that house. It causes sorts of mind games and plays with your emotions. I don't want to see anyone else hurt." Kinsey was sincere, he wasn't bashing them for their occupation, even though they were sure they sensed a twinge of doubt in his voice, but strangely enough, no criticism or slander against it. Kinsey was just warning them, but about what? Well that's exactly the reason the brothers had to go investigate, it could solve this hidden civil unrest that was potentially doing more harm than good to any of the citizens mindsets. Maybe it was the reason that the town was so deserted half the time, or was it always this small hick town in the middle of no where? Maybe that lead to Bobby McGee's meltdown, or so it was deemed.

"I think we'll be fine, just point us in their direction and we'll figure out the rest on our own." Dean nodded, waiting for Kinsey to get a move on it and show them the way, they had been here far too long without seeing anything truly disturbing or relating to the case in some way.

"Just let me close up and I'll drive you over there, Violin road is just outside of town by the Devil's Tramping Ground. Not a good idea to walk there at night. Not for any of those ghost story reasons, don't have the wrong idea. No, you're more likely to be stabbed and murdered before any of that actually happens, and I don't want to read about it in the morning paper." Wiping his hands in his bar apron, the mechanic sighed and turned off the lights in the building, leading Sam and Dean away from the door and into the small back alley beside the Sacred Ewe to his truck.

"I can take you to the garage to get your stuff or you can just borrow some of mine, trust me, I have plenty to go around. It's your choice though." Kinsey held the back doors of the truck open for Sam and Dean to get inside, it was a small truck by modern standards, but they weren't complaining, at least the roof was still in tact and protected them from the external elements.

"If it's easier to make one trip, we can use yours if you like, since you mentioned that you lived closer to this Violin road than the garage was." Dean shrugged, doing up his seat belt as he normally did. It was what he always did, no matter where they were going, he always did up his seat belt. A hard and fast rule that he had in place ever since he was a child. Sam on the other hand, did not always remember himself, but whenever he caught his brother's eye, he did it up anyway.

"Sounds good to me boys. Do you want some food before you go? I can make something up real quick for you to eat on the way there, Hell I can make enough for the four of you, I don't know how well Zach or Trevor can care for themselves at this point so I'll just make a big pot of stew to warm you all up. Sound good to you?" Kinsey was a sweet man with an over sized heart who just wanted to please everyone, to help everyone and to make sure that everyone was cared for and looked after. He hated seeing teenagers end up on the street, so he became the surrogate father to all of the teenagers, young adults and juniors.

"No thanks Kinsey, man, we ate before we got here and I think we're good for the night, you don't have to bend over backwards for us or anything, but thank you for the offer." In truth, Sam trusted Kinsey, he did, but he was still wary in the sense that he didn't want to get overly close to a stranger without fully knowing them, and if they had access to his food and water, that was only a faster way to get rid of him. It was just simple safety.

"Naw it's fine, to be honest, I don't think Zach or Trevor even know how to cook and I pretty much dumped them there with some cans and a can opener so I feel bad for them. You two might as well eat there too since you'll be staying there as well." The mechanic and pseudo therapist turned into a driveway that was wide enough for three cars side by side. To say it was over sized would be an under statement, it was massive, especially when you considered that the house itself was only a one floor rancher with what looked like only two bedrooms, maybe three if they were small enough.

"Oh, well in that case..." Dean trailed off. These small towns were starting to unnerve him, he wasn't used to everyone being so damn friendly. To be fair to the town, however, they didn't know everyone, they knew the underage crowd and Kinsey, and Kinsey was a completely different animal outside of any social norm or structure that they had encountered over the years.

"And if you want you can take a shower. No offense but I'm sure you two could peel the paint off of a car in better shape." He chuckled, meaning it to be a light hearted, almost comical comment, hoping that the two country bush boys weren't stiff from being in the city for too long.

"We'll take you up on that offer." Sam tried to match Kinsey's ease but it came off more as rather, snobbish, one could say his tone was. Dean caught that note, but he didn't say anything since he knew how his brother had meant it. Kinsey either hadn't noticed, thanks to his many years of dealing with teenagers and their attitudes, or he was just too polite to say anything. Turning off the ignition and opening the doors so Dean and Sam could hop out of the truck, Kinsey didn't even bother to switch the locks on the doors. Sam noticed that in the corner of his eye, he wasn't sure how to feel about that, whether or not he had just forgotten, or if it was useless seeing as they had to come back in a few short minutes anyway.

"Well you two shower up, I'll start cooking." Kinsey opened his front door, he really wasn't shy about inviting strangers into his house, actually he enjoyed caring for other people and providing for them, granted that they deserved and warranted his help, which the majority of people he crossed truly did.

"You two, aren't...together, are you? Now I'm not meaning to cross any lines or anything, I understand if you are, I don't judge, but I have a sleeping bag that fits two people comfortably and wanted to know which you preferred." Kinsey started out with his hands in front of him defensively, his palms exposed in truth and honesty, letting the brothers know that he really didn't intend to hurt any feelings. The Winchesters, who were by now used to people thinking they were homosexuals that were in love with each other, just shook their heads.

"No, we are blood related brothers, but if you only have the one large one we'll take that. It's okay, we get that a lot." Sam shrugged, knowing that if he let Dean speak there would be some insults, he was actually getting a bit sick of people asking him those questions, even though most of the time it was only out of sheer curiosity and to be politically correct, people were always trying to be right so often that they disregarded the basic principal: Mind your own business.

"Now I wasn't trying to hurt any feelings, I have quite a few people explaining their feelings of the many genders and sexualities you lot all have, I bet you can't tell me a single thing that could shock me anymore." Kinsey sighed, grabbing two separate sleeping bags from the linen cabinet and a couple of pillows too, before raising an eyebrow at them.

"The bathroom is just down the hall, you can't miss it, it's the only door on the left side. Do what you wish, I'll be in the kitchen when you're done." And with that, Kinsey tottered off to the kitchen to make a large pot of stew, something simple but filling that would fill the stomachs of four grown men, all of them have been through quite the adventure this past little while, they needed sustenance.

He only wished he could do more for them other than feeding and sheltering them, they came to him with troubles, they were now his boys, his children, just like the rest of the town had become.

His.


End file.
